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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549555">Meeting Through Crossovers (Short Dabbles and One Shots)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardsonSquared_Stories/pseuds/RichardsonSquared_Stories'>RichardsonSquared_Stories</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Adam-12 (TV 1968), CHiPs (TV), Emergency! (TV 1972), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Friendship, Highway patrol, Hijinks &amp; Shenanigans, Multiple Crossovers, Police, chippies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:53:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,919</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549555</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardsonSquared_Stories/pseuds/RichardsonSquared_Stories</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>While this surrounds Good Omens right now, it'll be whatever! I wanna do more than just these! Request if you have an idea!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Speeding Ticket</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Let's start with Good Omens Crossover and Adam-12.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> <span>An ordinary day of patrol, quiet as ever and boring. At least that meant that the citizens were being safe. Or they were just getting lucky breaks when the officers didn’t see them. As even the keen eyes of the young officer would miss things, he is only human. The said officer released a sigh, glancing at the silent radio before returning his vision to the street ahead of them.</span></p><p> <span>“What’s eatin’ ya, Reed?” Malloy, the senior officer of the pair spoke up, gently shifting the wheel as he looked over before stopping at a light. Reed shrugged, “Not sure, things just seem too quiet, ya know?” He suggested, “As good as it is, even the radio is quiet. It’s like when you leave a couple of toddlers alone in the next room and it all goes quiet. Something seems fishy…”</span></p><p> <span>“I hear ya, pal, things seem to be weirdly at peace.” Malloy nodded, agreeing with his younger partner. As if their worries became such a reality, when the light turned green, there was a sudden pass the other direction as a classic vehicle ran the red light. The officers gave each other a glance before racing after the vehicle.</span></p><p> <span>They managed to catch up to it, and it pulled over reluctantly. “That’s an old car…” Reed spoke up as he looked up the plate, it appeared to be clean. “You’re telling me, that’s from the 1930s…” Malloy added, as the pair stepped out and began to walk up to the windows. Inside the car were two men, the driver, a tall skinny redhead with short fiery hair and dark clothes. He was also wearing round sunglasses. The passenger was a round man with soft features, pale blonde hair, blue eyes that almost shimmered, and all-white classic clothes with tartan accents.</span></p><p> <span>“Good afternoon gentlemen, do you know why we pulled you over?” Malloy asked after looking over the men. “Perhaps it would be the speeding…?” The paler one spoke up, a southern English accent drawling through the air. “Indeed, it would be, why were you going so fast? Is there an emergency?” Malloy asked. The dark clothed one seemed to make a face and beat his friend to speaking, “Oh come on, listen… buddy… We are really needed elsewhere; we made a reservation and we’re almost late! At this rate, we will be late…” The Scottish but English gavel seemed to be laced with annoyance. “Then let’s get this over with, license and registration,” Malloy said sternly, not liking the redhead’s attitude.</span></p><p> <span>The man seemed to roll his eyes, before opening the glove box and getting his things and handing them off. Malloy looked them over, they were real, and they were up to date. “Just one moment Mr. Cr-ow-ley-,” “Crow-ley.” “Sorry, Crowley, I’ll be right back.” Malloy walked back to the cruiser to write the ticket. They didn’t get to catch his speed, so he wasn’t about to bring the two men in for that. Especially if they had a date to get to.</span></p><p> <span>Back in the car, the redhead was getting impatient. Grumbling under his breath lightly cursing. His friend quickly caught that, “Crowley, these men are just doing their jobs. You were the one speeding!” Reed raised a brow at the two, looking over the car for a moment. “What model is this? It’s old, that’s the most I know…” “Ah, this is a 1933 Bentley. Got her from new, never had a scratch” The redhead’s attitude seemed to change in an ice-cold instant, proudly speaking about his car. Reed almost laughed; it was just like Pete with his cars.</span></p><p> <span>A few minutes later, Malloy returned to the car with belongings and ticket in hand. “I wrote this ticket to be 50 over the limit since we didn’t clock your speed, I just need you to sign here Mr. Crowley and then you can be off. It’s not an admission of guilt, it is just saying to us that you will appear in court to challenge or pay the ticket on the date stated below.” He explained, showing the ticket to the man. The driver’s shoulders slumped, then he glanced over to his friend. “Can we please miracle our way out of this Angel… please?” He whined. “Crowley, no, that’s not legal. Besides you really do need to slow down.” The two police officers raised their brows now, “I’m sorry, a miracle?” Reed asked.</span></p><p> <span>“Yes, a miracle. We are an angel and a demon respectively. Retired actually, but we still have our powers.” The pale man explained happily. “So why drive when you could fly?” Reed chuckled. “Ah because the American air doesn’t agree with our feathers. The LA air is much too dry. Besides, Crowley quite likes to drive places. Easier and much more discreet than humans with wings.” The pair of officers just agreed and sent them off. Thinking they were just religious people or maybe a bit stir crazy.</span></p><p> <span>They didn’t see them ‘till a few days later. Off duty, Malloy and Reed were outside playing with Jimmy. They simply looked away for one moment, before looking back to Jimmy running out into the road when the ball for their dog rolled in the path of a car. It almost happened in slow motion. The car suddenly glowed a pale blue, and a flash of iridescent black wings blinked in front of the car around Jimmy, the dog, and the ball before appearing again in the yard.</span></p><p> <span>When the situation and adrenaline had settled, the car drove off as if nothing happened, the woman driving a bit startled but seemed alright. The car back to normal. Just down the sidewalk alongside Reed’s house was the pale man. And in the yard, surrounding Jimmy and their dog was the redhead. But that’s not just what shocked them, upon the shoulders of Crowley were a large pair of jet-black wings that seemed to glisten purples and blues in the sunlight. Shadows cast over Jimmy and the dog. Crowley stood tall and then leaned down to hand the boy the ball, “Don’t ever run into the street after a ball, you never know what may come.” He spoke softly before his wings faded away and he turned to join his friend. Reed and Malloy gave chase to greet them. “Wait!” Reed called, “I can’t thank you both enough…” He sighed in relief. “Of course, always happy to help.” The pale man smiled, “My name is Aziraphale. As you saw I am an Angel. The Principality and guardian of the Eastern gate of Eaden.” “And I’m the demon Crowley, the serpent of Eaden. However, I am much more of a fallen angel. So do not get used to the rescues.” The man hissed slightly, a set of fangs in his mouth. “So that’s why your wings were black… But… why the sunglasses?” Malloy asked. “That’s to hide the unsettling part of my appearance,” Crowley smirked, his glasses falling down his nose some to reveal the glowing golden snake eyes. He set his glasses back into place and turned to his friend, “May I tempt you to a spot of lunch?” He grinned. Aziraphale chuckled, “Of course.” And the two walked off, leaving the officers and the family in awe.</span></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Crash Survivor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let's do Emergency meetin' Good Omens now! Enjoy~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
  <span>Loud tones came over the firehouse speakers, “Station 51, vehicle accident… Code 3.” The speaker blasted at the crew as they all raced to the squad cars and hopped in. “Station 51, KMJ 365.” Captain Stanley responded to the radio before jumping in Engine 51. The doors to the station launched open like the starting gate at the races, the two vehicles </span>
  <span>racing to the scene.</span>
</p><p> <span>Arriving at the scene apparently it was between a rather ancient Bentley and a more recent vehicle. Unfortunately, the modern car was much larger than the older car. So, it looked like the Bentley was not in a good standing. The man who was driving the Bentley was outside of the car, on the ground seeming passed out. The two paramedics ran over to the man after grabbing their equipment. As Johnny set up the stuff they’d need, Desoto took the man’s pulse. That’s strange… His color was great, his chest was even moving a bit. But… there was no pulse… DeSoto looked confused, “What the-?” He asked aloud. “What?” Johnny asked. “He’s got no… pulse…” He explained.</span></p><p> <span>“…So he’s dead?” Johnny asked, as DeSoto looked him over. “I’m not even sure…” As they looked at each other, suddenly the man groaned, but he still had no pulse. “Sir? Are you alright? You’ve been in an accident.” DeSoto changed his demeanor as just assumed it was bad circulation. “What?” The man groaned, slowly opening his eyes a bit, his head was turned away from them, his glasses far away from his face. He took a bit to wake up before he panicked, but quickly had a ploy to get past it. He cried out and covered his eyes. “Sir? What’s wrong?” “The light… I’m sensitive to the light.” He explained, knowing that his snake eyes would freak them out. He didn’t want to miracle his way out of a police station.</span></p><p> <span>Johnny grabbed their spare sunglasses from the case, they had them as eye protection for patients. “Here, this should help.” He gave the man the glasses. “Thanks.” DeSoto spoke up now, “Sure, now, are you hurt anywhere?” He asked. The man shook his head “Are you sure?” He nodded now. “Okay, so what’s your name?” “Anthony J. Crowley,” Crowley responded, he also recited his ‘birthdate’ and license number for them. All his required information he created to hide. “Mr. Cowwley?” “Crowley.” “Sorry, Mr. Crowley. Now can you tell us what happened here?” Johnny asked. “Yeah, that modern car sided me!” Crowley sat up, looking over to his wrecked Bentley. “90 years and not a scratch, and now look what that asshat did to you…” He sighed. Looking upset as his car was doused. However the vehicle was not on fire, that much was good.</span></p><p> <span>“Are you sure you’re not hurt? You had quite the throw here.” Johnny asked again, looking concerned. “I’m fine, really, I’ve got strong bones.” He assured them, even standing up for them without help. Other than a slight limp from a sore hip that he said he landed on, he was just bruised and walked fine. Or as fine as Crowley could walk. They noted the saunter, asking him about it. “Oh, yeah, my balance is a bit off, kinda got the two left feet problem. More so in walking than dancing, oddly enough.” He explained.</span></p><p> <span>Suddenly a taxi pulled over nearby and a round white-haired man came running over to Crowley, even under the crime scene tape. “Crowley! My dear are you alright?!” He said as he stopped in front of him, looking over his friend worriedly. “I’m fine, Angel. These men even checked.” Crowley waved to the paramedics. Thankfully a second paramedic unit was on scene for the other injured driver. “Oh thank the heavens, bless you paramedics, bless you all.” The man smiled, still looking worried. “Oh the poor Bentley…” He frowned as he looked it over. “Nothing a bit of love can’t fix, you should know that Aziraphale…” Crowley smirked.</span></p><p> <span>The next day, Station 51 saw the very same car, the same two men inside it, driving past the station. The car looked like it had never had an incident. Like it just came off the line too. What a miracle they had…</span></p>
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